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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671952">Hospitality: A Vegebul Story</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLightningAndNexus/pseuds/BlueLightningAndNexus'>BlueLightningAndNexus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Ball</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arguing, F/M, They drive each other crazy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vegeta being Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Vegeta is a dick, flight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:36:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueLightningAndNexus/pseuds/BlueLightningAndNexus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately after the Frieza Saga. Bulma invites Vegeta to live with her, and it's definitely not because she's attracted to him, no sir. </p><p>Vegeta--despite all his pride and angst--accepts her offer, and it's definitely not because he's attracted to her, no way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bulma Briefs/Vegeta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. You're pretty cute, you know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Been wanting to write something with these two for months now. Finally got this out of my system. I'm glad to be back after I took a break from writing for a while.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was hard for Vegeta to say he really “liked” anyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since he was a child, Vegeta had developed a “kill or be killed” mentality that would serve him for most of his life. Vegeta’s perceptions of other people were quite simple at a young age. There were those that he had to respect because of their age, experience, or status; and there were those that were beneath him, which he would only see value in if they were allies or naive buffoons he could manipulate. Additionally, there were his enemies, the people that Frieza ordered him, Nappa and Raditz to exterminate during his service. Vegeta trained himself to hate these people with every fiber of his being, to make it easier when he pulled the metaphorical trigger and bombarded them with enough ki to annihilate their planet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a mindset that left Vegeta no room for “liking” people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that all changed when the Namekian Dragon Balls were used to transport him to Earth. Vegeta found himself whisked away across the stars, back to the only planet that had ever survived one of his assaults. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here, on Earth, things were different. He was no longer a prince, nor was he a soldier. The planet he was destined to rule was gone, the intergalactic empire he once served had been destroyed and its leader missing. There was no one below him, no one to fight, just...people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That evening, laying in the tall grass of one of West City’s many parks, Vegeta couldn’t help but let his mind wander. The chatter of the Namekians had since faded, leaving Vegeta with his own thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the span of an afternoon, his entire life had been changed. The tyrant that had been ruling his life ever since he was a small boy was gone. Vegeta died, then came back. Vegeta had no comrades left, nor enemies. It was a fresh start, a new life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now what the hell would he do with it? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, sunshine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta opened one eye, and found that woman standing over him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What was her name again? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vegeta asked himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kakarot’s brat called her...Bulla? No, Bulma. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me that,” he spat, an acidic edge to his tone. “What do you want, Earthling?” He was laying on a slight hill, and behind Bulma he could see the sun setting, giving her normally teal hair a somewhat orange glow. Maybe he’d spent too long on Namek, but something about this planet felt...peaceful. It was smaller, but denser, more diverse. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. A part of him wanted to reject this place and all its people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get snappy with me, I’m trying to help you,” she scolded. Bulma stood with her hands on her hips, looking out at the park. “Besides, you won’t let me call you ‘cutie,’ even though you are pretty easy on the eyes,” she joked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough, woman. You’re not helping me, you’re bothering me,” he replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me finish!” Bulma retorted, glaring down at him.That teasing, cutesy energy was gone in a flash. Before he could interrupt her once more, Bulma flatly told him “Come and stay with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta’s mind went blank. “W...what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma sighed, rubbing her eyes. “I need to get home, and you don’t exactly have any place to stay. And I figured I’d give you a hot meal and a warm bed.” After a moment of silence, she kicked at the grass. “You know...for helping us on Namek.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can survive off the land,” he replied. “I’ve been trained in survival since I was a boy. I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where will you go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anywhere but here,” he groaned. The Saiyan warrior wanted nothing more than for this conversation to end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I’m trying to be nice to you!” Bulma shouted. “My house has plenty of room, so in case you didn’t get it the first time, I’m telling you that you can stay with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta’s eyes shot open, and he sprung to his feet. He wanted to slap her, to tell her that her pity was unwanted and that he could crush them at a moment’s notice, but something stopped him’ Not the fear of retaliation from her Earthling friends, gods no. Vegeta knew he could take them all in a fight if given the chance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for some reason, this statement struck Vegeta in his cold heart. That evening, sitting in the tall grass, bathing in the amber shine of the setting sun, Vegeta felt different. Changed. The last time he was on this godforsaken rock, he was defeated by a filthy peasant, his brat, and some bald Earthling who was too weak to even throw a punch. Now, his anger--while still there, still occupying headspace--was no longer white-hot. He wasn’t being assaulted for his actions, ripped apart or exiled. He was offered kindness, hospitality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Against his screaming instincts, Vegeta took this opportunity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsk, fine,” Vegeta replied. “Lead the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma’s animosity melted away into a smile. It was like a light switch, the hot and cold. “Good,” she said with a relieved grin. “I’ll lead the way. It’s a few miles from here, but we can hail a taxi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta raised an eyebrow. “Taxi?” he asked, sounding out each letter as he spoke, gauging how the unfamiliar world felt on his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah,” Bulma said, before she remembered who she was talking to. “Oh, man, I forgot you’re not from Earth. A taxi is just a vehicle, and you can hire the driver of that vehicle to take you to different locations.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma put a finger on her chin, pensive. “Man, if you’re gonna live with me, we got a lot to catch up on,” she said quietly, more to herself than him. She wasn’t even sure if her enemy-turned-ally-turned-temporary roommate heard her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. You realize you’re talking to Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans and the strongest there is, correct? Just tell me where it is and I’ll get there on my own.” He ignored the not-so-subtle eye roll Bulma gave when he said “the strongest there is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta crossed his arms, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrow. “And another thing,” he began, “I’m not </span>
  <b>living </b>
  <span>here. This is temporary, woman. I’m taking your offer so you’ll stop nagging me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not nagging you, I’m trying to help you!” Bulma spat back. “And stop calling me woman! I have a name, you know!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a stupid name! You were named after clothes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re one to talk! You were named after a planet!” she retorted, making tumultuous gestures with her stick-thin arms. “A. Fucking. Planet!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <b>dare </b>
  <span>you insult my birthright!” he roared, pointing a finger up at her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Briefs heiress was seeing red, and she felt her blood boil. She forced herself to take a deep breath, and turned around, walking in the direction of her home. “Look, are you coming with me, or not?” she asked, her tone a bit calmer, her words more level. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta paused mid-rant, baffled by this woman’s audacity. “Well, of course not! Not anymore!” the Saiyan prince replied, flabbergasted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma stopped dead in her tracks. “Why the hell not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you deaf, woman? You’re lucky I’m not annihilating you where you stand for insulting my homeland.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma thought she felt a blood vessel pop. She turned on her heels, her hands trembling with anger, and grabbed him by the helm of his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, asshole, I’m offering you a chance to stay in a house so big it makes the King of the Earth jealous, with the wealthiest family of the region. I know you’re some kind of proud warrior man, but you smell like death and your clothes are coming apart at the seams, so just let me help you out for a night, ‘kay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma realized how suggestive the final statement sounded only after she finished speaking, and tried to ignore a small, barely-visible blush that started on her neck and spread to her cheeks. She looked him up and down for a second, gauging his body language (and really, his body in general). She wasn’t lying before: he was pretty cute, when he wasn’t covered in blood, sweat and grime. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While she didn’t think it possible, Vegeta’s scowl deepened so much it threatened to swallow his face in a black hole of pride and angst. After what felt like hours, he swatted Bulma’s hand off his clothes and mumbled something incoherent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Bulma asked, stretching out the word. She leaned forward and cupped a hand around her ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. What was that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said FINE!” he shouted. “Fine, I’ll stay at your stupid house. Tell me where it is, and I’ll bring us there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small, satisfied smirk formed on Bulma’s face, which quickly evaporated when she realized she’d never had to give anyone her address, or even directions to her home. Everyone just knew it was the Briefs Estate. “Um, it’s a large white building about two miles north of the Randosel Tower, on the northern edge of town.” After a moment of silence, she added “The words Capsule Corp are written on the side,” as an afterthought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what Randosel Tower is,” he grunted after a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Everyone knows where my house is, I’ll flag someone down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not riding in one of this stupid...taxa’s,” he told her, forgetting the word for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Taxi’s,” she corrected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just tell me what it looks like,” he enjoined. He sounded...anxious? No, that’s not quite right, more antsy than anything else, eager to get this over with. He took the tiniest step forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma rolled her eyes. “I-It’s just a massive white dome,” she stuttered. Why did she feel so embarrassed around him? And, gods in heaven, why did he make her so angry?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come closer,” he demanded. “Did you not hear me earlier? I’ll take us there.” Bulma raised an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what do you mean bring--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could finish, Vegeta wrapped his toned arm around her waist, and the Briefs heiress realized what he was doing a split second before it happened. Vegeta rocketed into the orange sky, practically dragging Bulma with him, and the last thing she saw before they were miles above ground was his shit-eating grin. The rushing air threatened to drag the flesh right off her bones, and the pink headband above her bangs was lost to the clouds. Her ears popped instantly. She thought her soul would leave her body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!” she shouted, frantically punching Vegeta in the back. “PUT ME DOWN RIGHT THIS INSTANT!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her punches barely even registered with Vegeta; it felt more like someone lightly tapping his arm, and it probably hurt her more than him. However, he found it difficult to hold onto her with one arm, seeing as she was throwing herself in every direction. It made it rather hard for  him to concentrate as he flew through the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gritted his teeth. “WOMAN! Tell me where your house is!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Bulma heard him, she sure did a good job at pretending she didn’t. “PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOWISWEARTOGODVEGETA!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want that!” he shouted, without taking his eyes off the metropolis below him, slowly decreasing in size as he rose higher and higher into the clouds. Finally, he found a building that matched Bulma’s descriptions. While he couldn’t make out any words on it, the structure was quite large, dwarfing nearby houses and the dense greenery that surrounded it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I HATE THIS IHATETHIS, PUT ME DOWN!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not a good idea!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“VEGETAVEGETAPUTMEDOWN!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“FINE!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma regretted her choice of words immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After scanning the distance between sky and ground, Vegeta unfolded his arm and allowed Bulma to plummet. For about two seconds, he floated in the air and watched in total silence as she grew smaller and smaller, her yellow jacket and bright teal hair almost invisible, her screams decreasing in volume; at which point, his ki flared and he prepared to fly again. Vegeta readjusted his position in the wind and shot downward at an angle, adjusting his trajectory oh-so-slightly into an arc as he approached the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He caught her at the last second, and immediately slowed his momentum (and hers) tremendously. His heels touched the ground, grazing the asphalt as they came to a stop right in front of the dome. Bulma practically leaped out of his arms and fell to her knees, practically kissing the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, land, sweet land,” she said, breathing quickly as she sprawled out next to the front gate, like a child making snow angels in the winter frost. Vegeta stepped over her without a second thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma’s hand flew up to her neck; a sharp pain had emerged. “Ow, shit,” she hissed. Vegeta turned around and found the taller woman pulling herself to her feet, knees wobbly, stomach queasy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You...you asshole!” she yelled. Or, at least, tried to, but all of her words were hoarse and weak from screaming. “You gave me fucking whiplash,” she groaned, massaging the nape of her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her face was flushed, and without even looking, Bulma knew her hair was a war crime and her clothes were ruffled. Though he would never admit it, Vegeta thought the look suited her. She looked...adequate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t we agree that it was faster than any vehicle?” he offered, a coy smile on his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma blinked once, twice. “Were you...trying to be funny?” she asked. Vegeta’s smug mug offered her all the answers she needed. “That was a joke to you? I could’ve died!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You asked that I let go,” he gave. “With the way you were thrashing and kicking, you made it pretty easy to comply. Now, don’t you--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slap echoed throughout the warm evening air. Vegeta’s gloved finger moved up to his face, and without even looking, he knew a red hand print was forming on his cheek. Bulma’s ocean irises had a fire to them he hadn’t seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never. Do that. Again,” she commanded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The unfamiliar respect that Vegeta felt was a bit devalued when she immediately turned around and vomited on the sidewalk two seconds later, but he was still impressed. After losing breakfast, lunch and dinner, Bulma wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her yellow vest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment of silence, Vegeta clicked his tongue. “So, if you’re done--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, though the sound of Bulma’s closed fist flying into his face made a much less satisfying noise, but her yelp of pain the next moment amused him. “Woman, stop trying to hit me!” he shouted, as she cradled her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such an dick,” was all she managed to say, before her still-wobbly knees gave out again. Normally, Vegeta would have just let her fall flat on his face, make a snarky quip at her expense, but for whatever reason, this time he stepped forward, catching her effortlessly with one hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rather than pulling her back on her feet, Vegeta put a second hand on her shoulder and gently eased her to the ground, kneeling down himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, Earth woman, you’re pretty terrible at fighting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me Bulma,” she muttered weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta ignored her, taking her right hand in his own. The knuckles were already starting to turn a blend of dark blue and purple, and as he brushed his thumb over the bruised skin, he heard her breath hitch for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It hurts when you don’t do it right, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” she replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vegeta looked down at her. Not many humans had this kind of determination, or fierceness. Especially not one with such a pitiful amount of ki. But her spirit burned with a fire brighter than most. This recognition confused Vegeta. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid Earth woman. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make a fist,” he commanded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she said nothing at first, Vegeta repeated himself. Looking into his dark eyes, Bulma’s queasiness faded into frustration, but she complied. Taking her balled fist in the palm of his hand, Vegeta brought it up to his face, lining up the knuckles with the spot she just punched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You punched me at a bad angle, with the flat of your fingers,” he mildly told her. “You hit me here, so your fist needs to be like this,” he said, turning her hand slightly. Now, her index and middle knuckles were more centered on his cheek, the impact taken away from her fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bulma pulled her hand away, the shadow of a smile gracing her face. “I’m gonna need to learn how to hit hard if you’re gonna be living with me,” she said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe you can teach me? </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought, a question that died before it reached her mouth. He stood back on his feet, walking back to the gate. She expected him to offer a helping hand, and pulled herself up on unsteady feet when no such help was extended. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still an asshole,” she repeated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care, Bulma,” he said, walking three steps ahead of her and past the Briefs’ front gate like he’d lived here all his life. His back was turned to her. She couldn’t see his smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe there was room for Vegeta to like someone after all. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Future</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bulma thinks about the future. And, as a result, she thinks of Vegeta.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bulma didn’t like to think of the future. </p><p>This had always been the case. Ever since she was a young girl, she lived in the moment with every fiber of her being. </p><p>That isn’t to say Bulma was totally unable to think long-term. She had projects she would tinker with for ages, machines that she would pour hours into for years on end. But thinking of things like marriage, children, families...not at all. It wasn’t that they never occurred to Bulma, but she was always getting swept up in the present day, too blinded by the extraordinary events she was a part of to consider what happened when they were over. </p><p>And, to be honest, with the people she hung out with, could anyone blame her? You could call her a “daddy’s little girl” all day, but that wasn’t it. Anyone would have trouble focusing on work, or thinking about getting a mortgage, or going to school when their best friend frequently fought demons and brought them along. </p><p>But now, standing on her balcony in her favorite bathrobe, looking at the stars and the night sky...the future was all she could think about. </p><p>In an attempt to get their friends back, she, Krillin and Gohan had essentially toppled an intergalactic empire larger than she could imagine. Would anyone come after them, in retaliation? Was Frieza still alive? He couldn’t be...right? </p><p>Goku--her best friend since she was 16--was alive, somewhere out in the stars, and refusing to come home. Chi-Chi was furious, and Bulma couldn’t help but agree with her. Why was he doing this? What was there to gain? His friends and family were back home. As she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Bulma realized she might not see him for years, if she ever saw him again. </p><p>And Yamcha...well, Bulma just couldn’t see a future with him. She saw the way that Chi-Chi looked at Goku, or Gohan; her husband was the world to her, and her son the universe. Bulma didn’t see herself and Yamcha like that. In the time he spent on King Kai’s planet, she realized that she probably never did. </p><p>“Oh, shit,” she said, putting her head in her hands. “Why does everything have to be so weird?”</p><p>Bulma looked to the cosmos. Light pollution notoriously blocked any decent stargazing in their Region, but Bulma’s new solar energy initiative for Capsule Corp had reduced that pollution somewhat. As Bulma looked to the stars, she realized with a swell of pride that she and Krillin had traveled farther across the universe than any humans before them. </p><p>“Woman.”</p><p>Bulma flinched. Vegeta approached the balcony from behind, resting his arms on the guard railing. </p><p>“Geez, Vegeta, I didn’t even realize you were still up,” she said. “You gave me a heart attack.”</p><p>Bulma could see a flash of confusion at the unfamiliar expression, but he said nothing, not meeting her eye. “Can’t sleep either?” he asked, the answer already clear as day. </p><p>She nodded. It’d been three months since he’d arrived. Vegeta alternate between loud, vulgar, and hot-headed; or cold as ice, his contemptful stare speaking thousands of words. Nonetheless, Bulma had some success (however small it may be) in getting him to open up, just a little. Even a few weeks ago, he’d never ask a question as small or mundane as that. </p><p>After a few moments, Bulma asked, “Do you think Goku’s still out there?”</p><p>Vegeta paused, balling his fist. “I don’t care if Kakarot is or isn’t. The day is fast approaching, the day I surpass him. Then, I’ll be the most powerful Saiyan to ever live.”</p><p>It was at this moment Bulma noticed a sweat rag over his shoulder, a full water bottle in his hand. He turned around and walked away, his body disappearing into the shadows of their room. </p><p>“You’re going training?” she asked disapprovingly. “At 3 in the morning?”</p><p>“I can’t sleep, so I might as well do something useful,” he said. “I can’t become a Super Saiyan by standing around and doing nothing.”</p><p>Bulma couldn’t help but laugh. He really was so much like Goku. They were headstrong, stupid idiots who couldn’t think about anything other than fighting. They were stubborn to the end, never content with sitting around, always antsy, always ready to get a move-on. But it was in those few differences that set them apart. </p><p>Goku was bright and cheerful, a sunny disposition that could make anyone smile. It was no surprise to Bulma that most of their comrades were former enemies; Goku had a certain charisma, a charm that compelled others to be on his side. Vegeta was dark and brooding, never smiling and unwilling to compromise or seek help. Whereas Goku valued resting and relaxing, as a way to decompress from long days of training; Vegeta could never allow himself the luxury, and would run himself ragged as a result. </p><p>“Oh, no, you aren’t going out at a time like this,” Bulma said, grabbing Vegeta by the shoulder. He turned around, eyes ablaze, his trademark scowl back in full force. </p><p>“You finished setting up the Gravity Chamber, right?” he asked. He took Bulma’s silence and the furrowing of her brow as a ‘yes.’ “Then this discussion is over,” he continued. </p><p>“You won’t even finish an entire set out there,” Bulma said confidently. </p><p>“And who’s going to stop me? You?” he asked. “Don’t make me laugh. I might’ve taught you a thing or two about throwing a punch, but you’re about as much of a threat to me as an insect.”</p><p>Bulma frowned. She’d always known she wasn’t anywhere near as competent in the battlefield as her friend; this was a fact of life, and one she was perfectly content with. Why would she want to destroy her body and exhaust herself, day after day, for a fraction of the strength they had? It was so much better to train her mind and continue honing her craft. </p><p>(Regardless, she did like the self-defense lessons Vegeta gave her, when he found the time amidst his hellish training regiment.) </p><p>“I don’t need to do anything,” Bulma said. “I’ve seen your routine. You’ve been exhausting yourself day after day for the last week. There’s no way you can go another round tonight.”</p><p>Vegeta’s grip tightened around his water bottle, and the small capsule exploded in his hand, getting both of their clothes wet. </p><p>“Can you not break my water bottles? Those things cost 30,000 zeni.”</p><p>“Why the hell do they cost so much?” Vegeta mumbled. He shook his head. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. I’m the strongest there is. A few light exercises aren’t going to break me.”</p><p>Bulma rolled her eyes. She reached into the pocket of her raspberry-colored bathrobe and pulled out a small remote control, before pressing a white button in the center. She put it back in her pocket without saying a word, as Vegeta eyed her pocket. </p><p>“W-what? What did you just do?” </p><p>“I shut off the Chamber. Can’t train in augmented gravity anymore,” she said. “It’ll reactivate in a few hours. Enough time for you to get some sleep.”</p><p>Vegeta took a step forward, getting uncomfortably close in her personal space. “Woman, turn it back on this instant.”</p><p>“I can’t,” Bulma said mildly. “I programmed it on a timer schedule. Once I press that button, there isn’t a thing in the world that’ll increase the gravity for 5 hours.”</p><p>Vegeta was practically trembling with anger, grinding his teeth together until they threatened to turn to dust. Bulma remained cool as frost. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” she said, voice smooth as silk. “Go get some sleep, alright? You can train more in the morning.” She looked Vegeta up and down; their noses were almost touching. When he didn’t move, she spoke again. </p><p>“Look, I know I said you were cute, but do you mind giving me a bit of space?” she asked. </p><p>Vegeta turned around, stomping away and muttered something about how stupid Earth women were. She tried not to ignore the red in his cheeks. </p><p>“Geez, at least buy me some dinner first,” she mumbled to herself, before returning to her quarters. </p><p>As Bulma laid back down in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, she tried to think more of the future. She ended up thinking about her Saiyan roommate.</p>
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